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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029249">carrion for crows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/apotheosizing/pseuds/apotheosizing'>apotheosizing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodborne (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant but Speculative, Fauxsefka-Typical Horrible Implications, Gen, Pre-Canon, Uneasy Allies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:07:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/apotheosizing/pseuds/apotheosizing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eileen sifts through the ruins of the clinic in central Yharnam and finds its sole suvivor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>carrion for crows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The clinic was but another gravestone, one that marked the border between the woods - so long forbidden - and the central district of Yharnam. It served as little more than a point of reference for navigating the maze of the city’s streets; she doubted it had housed a patient since beasts sprung from its patients’ beds and left it the site of a slaughter.</p><p>Eileen had poor memories of the place. She had once dragged herself through the wrought iron gates, thoughts sluggish from prolonged use of quicksilver bullets, and collapsed on the steps. The following (hours? days?) time had been a blur, in which she remembered only the tinkling of glass alembics, the imbibing of foul liquids, and a tremulous voice. With later lucidity, she concluded that it had been the work of the doctor, Iosefka, whose face she still could not place to the name.</p><p>Unnervingly, as she passed the clinic on her hunt and the memory bubbled to the surface, she found it was difficult to recall whether it had occurred in the dream or in the waking world.</p><p>It was the desire to resolve this ambiguity that led her to the worn oak doors, a detour from the footsteps of her quarry. Enough of her had seeped through the cracks of the dream, she would keep a tighter hold on that which remained.</p><p>The disused door swung unevenly on a chipped frame when she pushed it open, the jagged claw marks of beasts scoring the city’s history into its varnish; her every step echoed hollowly through the space despite her hunter’s pace. It was obvious that the growing horror of the night had pushed even the sick from their beds. A waxing suspicion that there was nothing to be found in the ruins was dispelled by the muffled sound of shattering glass from above.</p><p>Eileen moved through the detritus of the sickrooms to the southern staircase, which creaked with every other footfall. In answer, a voice called out from behind the frosted glass of the wide double doors at its top. “Oh, is someone there?”</p><p>She paused, discordance pulling at the fraying threads of her waking memory. The voice behind the door was deeper (with the strange quality of hearing someone speaking underwater) than the one she remembered offering useless reassurances in her addled state. Not that such a remembrance could be trusted.</p><p>“You must be a hunter, to be out so late,” she laughed, a dry sound belying parched lips and late nights. “Is there something I can help you with, hunter? Or… should I be asking if there’s something you can help me with?” A grey eye peered through the dirty window. “Given your attire…”</p><p>Under external scrutiny, the impulse that had brought her to the clinic felt too foolish to voice. She opted for a half-truth: “I’m looking for an old hunter of the League. Henryk.”</p><p>Iosefka (she could only presume) made her consideration audible in a long hum. Eileen heard the sound of a bolt being drawn from a lock a moment before the door swung inward, allowing her the courtesy of seeing to whom she had been speaking.</p><p>Her blonde hair - tied back in a ponytail to keep it away from her eyes - glistened with something that was neither blood nor water. The crust of brown under her fingernails, however, was.</p><p>Iosefka shook her head, a perfect mask of regret. “Though the League makes their lair in the woods, I haven’t dealt with them myself. They find Yharnam… distasteful.” She stared into the eyes of the crow mask, considering. “I suppose you probably feel the same - streets crawling with beasts as they are.”</p><p>Eileen took a step back, torn between the need to seek a true lead to her quarry and the baseless certainty that the doctor was lying through her teeth. It was not uncommon, on the night of the hunt, for untruths and false truths to spill alongside the blood. She did not begrudge it; those whom she had pledged to hunt could not lie for long.</p><p>“That said... I have met someone who might be of interest to you.” From the way she drew out the words (like a fisherman - hook, line, sinker), it was clear that this was something Iosefka had been waiting to say since seeing the crowfeathers.</p><p>“Who?” Iosefka smiled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just think they're neat.jpg.</p><p>I originally wanted to make this a longer fic but I'm allergic to non-oneshots and felt like keeping it short and sweet and letting us imagine how things go from here was better for capturing that good BB ambiguity.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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